The Way Things Should Be
by cfpepperz
Summary: An anthology of chronological POVs that take place off-screen, beginning at the end of Episode 8 and ending at the beginning of of Episode 9. Large focus on Bolin and Mako and their past, off-screen experiences, and observations/thoughts. Incorporates lots of fabricated details based on characters in A:tLA, including Yue and Iroh. Enjoy, and please review!
1. Schism

**I.**

"It's all right, Korra. We'll be oka- "

Bolin's words were muffled as a member of the police force stuffed a gag in his mouth. A particularly nasty officer had met him, Mako, and Asami as they were escorted to—or herded and shoved into, rather—the police Satomobile equipped with a holding carriage meant to contain criminals.

"Now shut yer mouth, or I'll do more than gag ye," he growled as he secured the knot on the putrid piece of cloth obstructing Bolin's mouth.

"Take them away."

"_No! _You can't do this! Th—"

Interrupting Korra's distraught voice, the carriage's metal door slammed shut from the outside, plunging the cold, rank space into near darkness. Faint moonlight shone through a tiny barred window on the carriage door, catching the highlights of Asami's hair and the glint of metal armor on the officer, who sat hunched in the corner. His fat, beady eyes were fixed on Asami, who shivered and obscured herself behind Mako as best she could.

Ignoring the taste in his mouth left by the gag, Bolin shifted to the tiny window.

His eyes frantically searched for a hint of blue among the dusty greys and dulled greens of police uniforms, and found their mark in the midst of the fray.

Somehow, Bolin managed to make eye contact with Korra. He had always loved her eyes: their unnatural blueness, the adorable way they squinted when she laughed, but now it shocked him to see them dull, lifeless, tired. She radiated helplessness, and her look alone suggested that she thought she would never see her friends again. She looked away, defeated and ashamed.

Bolin's heart stopped. _No. No, this can't possibly be the end! I can't go out like this, not without telling Korra that I love her—_

He felt a puffy, gloved hand grasp the back of his head. A deafening crack reverberated off the holding cell walls, and it took Bolin a moment to realize that the sound had come from his face slamming into the grate of the window. He involuntarily spit out a tooth that had come loose in the impact, and felt a gush of warm blood coming from his freshly broken nose.

Asami squeaked empathically, and Mako uttered angry curses under his breath, clutching Asami's hand tightly.

"Are ye _deaf_, dirt-bender?" the guard growled, tightening his grip on Bolin's head and yanking it harshly from the window. His limp body snapped back with it, revealing the damage done to his face to the guard. Through swollen eyelids, Bolin could see that the guard looked pleased with his work.

Grinning perversely, the guard threw Bolin's limp form into the corner adjacent to where Asami and Mako were huddled, frozen in fear, furthest from the window. "Now sit yer ass down on the damn floor an' behave, and maybe you'll be able to walk to yer holdin' cell at HQ," he growled, making his way to Asami and Mako's corner.

He glared at Mako and grinned evilly at Asami. "And the same goes fer you two lovebirds." His gaze shifted to Mako, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Say a word, attempt to bend, or disobey orders, and I will have my way with yer girl."

It was all Mako could do to not have _his _way with the guard. He gritted his teeth, his brow furrowed, and his grip around Asami tightened. A murderous look flickered in his eyes, and the temperature of the cell rose a few degrees as Mako's blood boiled in his veins and steamy sweat filled the air.

Satisfied, the guard slumped nonchalantly in his corner, maintaining an unwavering stare at his captors. The Satomobile engine roared to life, and the vehicle broke inertia.

Bolin lay on the cold, hard floor of the cell, crumpled and broken, weeping silently.


	2. Custody

**II.**

_Bolin felt coarse sand between his toes, and inhaled deeply. He always loved the smell that filled the air during the summer harvest: fresh-cut grain, tilled soil, and his mother's banapple bread baking in the oven. The hogmonkeys squealed in their pens, begging for scraps and picking each other for nits, while Mako cartwheeled in the grassy knoll behind the house and shot small fireballs from the soles of his feet._

Gravel crunched beneath the Satomobile's thick rubber tires. Every now and then a particularly large pebble would cause the cell to violently jerk and Bolin's head to bounce on the unforgiving metal floor. He curled into a fetal position and grounded himself with what little strength he had to avoid the worst of the bumps.

When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he flinched, anticipating another blow. Instead, the hand gently maneuvered something soft and unnaturally warm under his head and neck. The moment he felt it, Bolin realized that the makeshift pillow was Mako's tattered red scarf: the one that had been their father's.

Embarrassed, Bolin made extra care to ensure that the scarf was clear of the small puddle of blood, saliva, and mucous that had tricked from his mangled face in the last ten minutes. He was in such a way that Mako couldn't see his face: something he intended, as he was sure his brother didn't know the extent of the damage done to it.

"Don't talk or move, little bro," he whispered, barely audible over the sound of the bustling streets outside. "The snake-rat bastard is asleep. I already checked outside, and our police escort is too large to attempt an escape. If they're really taking us to the police station, than we'll be there shortly. We're gonna play it safe: just cooperate, do whatever they say, and don't bring attention to yourself. I'm willing to bet that Korra went to get either Tenzin or Lin to help bail us out."

He paused as Bolin nodded feebly to indicate that he understood.

"If that plan doesn't work out—"

The cell lurched as a wheel hit a pothole. The guard snorted, but remained asleep.

"—then we'll regroup in confinement." finished Asami, her voice even softer than Mako's. "If we somehow manage to escape, then meet at the fountain about a quarter mile south of the ferry to Air Temple Island. Tenzin is our best hope of regrouping with Korra."

Bolin nodded again, this time a little a little less half-heartedly. His stomach fluttered at the idea of seeing her again, and he hoped with all his heart that she and Pabu were safe.

The cacophony of the streets quickly succumbed to the fuzzy static of police radios and the clinking of metalbending cables. Mako and Asami quickly scuttled to their original places in the cell. After he tossed Mako's scarf back to its owner, Bolin gathered the strength to lift his body from the floor.

His entire face pulsed in pain, and he spat out a fresh clot of blood. Hastily wiping the blood and tears from his face, he tried his best to appear strong and unaffected for his brother. He winced as his hands met his cheeks. He immediately deduced that his head-on collision with the cell window had left at least two or three nasty, vertical bruises: one on either cheek, and perhaps another obscured by his broken nose.

The car slowed to a stop just as the guard finished his nap. Shuffling to his feet, he greeted a senior officer with a salute at the barred window.

"The prisoners are secured and ready for processing," he barked, in such a way that Mako, Bolin, and Asami were compelled to line up behind him, heads down in submissive positions, hands resting nonthreateningly at their sides.

The metal door creaked open, and the three prisoners were led outside to the police vehicle reception area. A sign clearly indicated that the space was reserved for "Criminal Processing: Search, Questioning, and Confinement."

An unfamiliar face greeted them: a malicious-looking officer in black armor with a shaved head and a deep scar from cheek to forehead across his face. He was imposingly tall and broad, and walked with a limp as he inspected the human cargo.

"My, my," he noted, as he circled each captive, his flitting eyes and chiseled face but a finger's breadth away from their faces. His breath was so vile and unpleasant that Bolin had to hold back the urge to vomit.

"Well, boys, we have a treat for all of you today!" he bellowed, and was soon met by several rough cheers and approvals.

He turned to a tall, unpleasant-looking guard at his left. "Strip-search 'em, showern' bandage the bloody meat suit, an' place the two street rats under special guard." He ordered. "Them boys are benders, I seen them at 'dem pro bendin' matches. Have 'em ready fer questioning in one hour, on the dot."

A chorus of jeers and agreements followed Bolin all the way to Search Room three.


	3. Triumph

**III.**

Bolin felt thoroughly violated after being 'processed.'

He sat in the corner of his holding cell, hugging his legs and resting his rudimentarily bandaged head on scabbed and bruised knees. His skin had been rubbed raw from the sponge and industrial soap in the showers, which had felt more like steel wool and ammonia on his open wounds. His broken nose had been set improperly (and very painfully) by the same ninety year-old nurse that had bandaged his head, and now he had to reset it himself.

_Come on now, Bolin, you have to do this properly, or you will have a hideously crooked nose for the rest of your life_, he joked silently, as he tried to forget about the pain he was going to inflict on himself. Peeling off the bandage and grasping his mangled nose, he inhaled deeply, trying to recall that perfect dream he had had just days before.

_A stadium packed to the brim with adoring fans; the flashes of cameras and the commentator's booming voice over the loud-speaker, announcing that the tie-breaking match between the Wolf-bats and the Fire Ferrets at the Republic City Championship Finals would be earthbender vs. earthbender. Mako and Korra, beautiful Korra, look on anxiously from the sidelines. Bolin, standing tall and proud, steps over to the raised platform, ready to take on his enemy._

_Without delay, the brave little Fire Ferret springs into action. His opponent sends a barrage of offensive attacks, illegally aiming for Bolin's head. Bringing his fists together, Bolin blocks the attacks by bending two earth disks in front of him, then forces the collided mess as his opponent's feet, which he notices are in a weak stance._

_His opponent trips on the redirected earth, falling chest-first on the arena floor. With the wind knocked out of him, he staggered to his feet, doubled over, and met Bolin's final blow. _

_An earth-disk, aimed so that the side with the largest surface area made contact with the opponent's stomach, meets its mark. The assailant goes flying off the raised platform, knocked out before he hits the arena floor._

_Having outperformed his opponent's brute strength and illegal moves with unparalleled skill, Bolin tears off his helmet and raises his arms into the air to meet the deafening roar of the stadium._

"_Aaaaand presenting, pro bending's top team and winner of the Republic City Championship Finals, the New Industries Fiiiire Ferreeeeets!" boom the loudspeakers as Korra and Mako join him on the platform, beaming and cheering at their collective triumph as the stadium goers' approval soars._

_And then, Korra removes her helmet and looses her beautiful hair, unkempt and damp with sweat, in one graceful motion. She leaps into Bolin's unsuspecting arms, grasping his dirt-covered face in her hands, kissing him passionately, open-mouthed, on his cracked and breathless lips._

_Startled, but deeply pleased, he pulls her close as a fiery warmth fills his heart, returning the favor and holding her as if he would never let go. _

_Nothing mattered: the tournament, the Equalists, his brother's ensuing jealousy had all vanished in that one blissful moment. He was helplessly lost in it, never wanting anything else, anyone else, than the perfect woman that had chosen him._

_Korra._

My_ Korra._

As he exhaled, Bolin snapped his nose back into place.


	4. Hopeless

**IV. **

Bolin had slept for a couple of hours before Mako joined him in the cell. He vaguely remembered hearing the confinement cell open and close in the middle of his nap, but he did not face his brother until he got up two hours later.

Mako was standing near the bars of the cell, his back facing his brother. As he heard Bolin shuffle and groan, he looked back with empathy in his eyes.

He turned to face the bars again. "You all right, bro?" His voice cracked slightly, as if he had not spoken since he had last seen his brother.

Bolin's entire face throbbed in pain when he moved his jaw to reply. He hesitated, but only briefly, as he tried to make his words as recognizable as possible.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he managed to say without too much trouble. "The bastard broke my nose and bruised me up pretty badly," he replied, indicating the now dark purple vertical bruises that ran down his face. "I may have fractured a cheekbone, too, but other than that, I'm… fine. Just fine."

He paused, preparing himself for the lecture about staying out of trouble that he was sure would come, but none came. Mako was emotionless; lost in his own thoughts.

"What happened to Asami?" Bolin asked carefully, trying not to hit a nerve.

"She's safe. I saw a guard take her to a separate cell before I was taken here," he murmured, his voice only slightly less devoid of emotion.

"Good."

Bolin analyzed his brother curiously, taking note of his relative indifference of Asami's status. Perhaps he felt he didn't need to worry about her: she could, after all, look out for herself. But then again, he could be frustrated and internalizing about the way the guard had treated her, or the fact that the two had been separated.

But then again, whenever Mako wasn't passionate about something, it usually meant that he was focusing all of his attention on something—or someone—else.

Almost instinctively, Bolin broke the silence without having fully thought through his question.

"Hey, Mako, whatcha thinking about?" he yawned, as casually as possible.

"Why do you want to know?" he deadpanned, without even turning his head from the bars.

"Well, I just wanted to talk," he replied nonchalantly, adjusting the bandage on his face. "It seems like something —I mean, besides the fact that we're incarcerated in enemy territory and that my face was beaten to a bloody pulp—is bothering you."

Mako narrowed his eyes, annoyed at his brother's intuition. Few people knew it, but Bolin was extremely shrewd behind his goofy demeanor. As a result, people often underestimated him, and Bolin usually got his way. Even when he didn't, though, he was calm and composed about it, taking it as a learning experience rather than a failure.

And then he'd circle back and try again, which was exactly what he was doing right now. So Mako redirected the attack.

"Fine, then. You first." He turned around, giving his full attention to his little brother.

"Who saidI was worried about anything?" Bolin questioned calmly.

"Well, who said that _I_ was worried about anything?" Mako half-yelled.

"_You_ did, when you suggested that I divulge _my_ worries first!" laughed Bolin.

Mako froze, bested in a battle of wits with Bolin yet again. He scoffed, but began to soften as he explained his preoccupations.

"It just… seems like the world as we know it is crumbling down, Bolin," he confessed, making eye contact with the floor. "All of this hog-monkey business with the pro bending tournament, then with Asami's dad being an Equalist, and now, the law enforcement has gone to shit… I mean, whatever happened to our simple existence, living at the arena and minding our own business?"

Mako's voice grew progressively louder and angrier. "Why the hell did we even get involved in this mess with the Equalists? We're freaking _orphans_, living off of handouts and other people's kindness, and trying to alter the course of an Equalist revolution that's been in the making for years!"

He smashed his fist against the bars, sending an ominous rattling to the corners of the cell. He looked at Bolin, his face lined with anguish.

"Yeah. You're gonna tell me that Avatar Aang and his buddies managed to stop the Fire Lord seventy-five years ago, when they were younger than we are now," he murmured, slumping on the rough cot situated on the other end of the cell and turning his back to his brother once more. "But how can anyone hope to even come close to what they achieved?"

His voice died off, leaving Bolin feeling helpless to console his brother. It seemed that no matter how many times Mako seemed to be able to lift Bolin's spirits when he was in a slump, Bolin could never reciprocate the favor. He was too traumatized by the death of their parents and overwhelmed with the responsibility of taking care of him to be comforted properly, especially by the very humor that Bolin shielded his emotional vulnerability behind.

As Bolin's attention on his brother died, his mind reverted to focusing on the dull, painful throbbing of his facial wounds. He curled into a fetal position, catching silent, pain-motivated tears in puddles on his knees, and succumbed to sleep once more.


	5. Memory

**V.**

"_Mommy, Mommy! Look what I can do!" shouted Mako from the knoll, now shooting bursts of fire from his fists. He leaped and tumbled, battling imaginary opponents as he vied for his mother's attention. "Hi-ya! Ka-POW! Take that, you snotty Equalist scum!"_

"_Hold on just a minute, Mako! I'm fixing up your brother right now; he got a boo-boo."_

_Mako groaned, exasperated and bewildered as to how Bolin had managed to hurt himself _this_ time, and finished off his fictional attacker. He looked around to observe the scorch marks he had inflicted in the grass: fist- and foot-sized imprints of charred foliage littered the 'battlefield,' and stood tall in triumph as his mother and brother emerged from the rear entrance to the house._

"_Don't worry, Mom; I killed all of the bad people so that they couldn't get you and Bo," he stated matter-of-factly, while his mother crossed her arms and looked in disdain at the singed grass. She giggled, excusing the peccadillo. _

"_Oh, Mako, my hero!" she squealed, picking up her eldest son and swinging him around in a circle before collapsing on a soft patch of grass with Mako now in her lap. Bolin rushed over and planted himself on Mako's lap, hugging his brother sweetly as their mother laughed heartily, embracing them both._

"_My two brave young soldiers!" she praised, kissing each of her sons on the forehead. "Keeping our family safe from harm by using your gifts to fight for good. Your father and I are so proud of both of you!" Her sons beamed, hugging their mother tightly._

_She turned to a burned patch of grass, softly addressing the issue. Using her earthbending, she crumbled the charred heap into a ball of loose ash and soil and scattered it into the wind._

_She turned to Mako. "While we may be proud of our gifts, we must be careful to not step on those weaker than us," she said, softly but solemnly. "Injure rather than harm…"_

"_Harm rather than cripple…" continued Mako._

"_Cripple rather than maim…" _

"_And maim rather than kill, for ALL life is precious!" finished Bolin, proud at being able to finish the last line of his mother's favorite proverb._

"_That's right, Bo!" she encouraged, as she scattered another dead patch of grass to the wind. Bolin followed her lead, straining to compact the dead material into a ball with his earthbending. It exploded, and the wind carried ashes back into his face. He coughed and eyes stung from the heat. He looked down, ashamed that his bending skills were nowhere near Mako's._

_Sensing his disdain, Bolin's mother comforted her youngest son. "It's all right, little Bo," she crooned, stroking his hair and removing most of the dust and dirt. "With a little bit of practice, you'll be able to bend just as well as Mako. Who knows: one day, you might even bend metal, just like your grandmother!"_

"_Really?" His eyes widened, and all evidence of his brief melancholy disappeared._

_Mako humphed. "Not before I learn how to bend lightning!" he promised, jumping out of his mother's lap to perform the basic lightning redirection movements with his arms. Bolin instantly followed, practicing earthbending with the burnt clods of dirt. _

_Their mother chucked, proud of her boys' determination to excel. "Have fun, boys," she called, heading back to the house. "Stay close to the house, and don't let your bending get out of control," she warned, looking at Mako in particular. "Lunch will be ready in half an hour!"_

_She disappeared back into the house to check on the banapple bread._


	6. Recollection

**VI. **

Bolin's incessant snoring woke Mako from his light nap. He rubbed sleepy eyes on the sleeve of his shirt, reluctant to get up and get his brother to stop making a racket. Bolin desperately needed the sleep after what he had been through, so Mako sucked it up and tried to return to his peaceful, dreamless slumber.

A few minutes passed. Then, on the verge of falling asleep again, Mako started in shock.

Bolin was talking in his sleep.

Worry donned on him as he recalled those first few months he and Bolin had lived in the streets, sleeping under bridges and, during the frigid winter, in a dark corner of a steel factory close to the furnace. The nightmares Bolin had experienced left both brothers exhausted from lack of sleep at the beginning of each new day, especially since, more often than not, Bolin vocalized what he was experiencing in his dreams and woke up covered in cold sweat and sobbing. Mako remembered soothing his brother, ensuring to him that everything was all right, and encouraging him to go back to sleep almost every night. It was hours, though, before Mako got over reliving the ordeal of his parents' deaths and fell back asleep, if he did at all.

This went on for six months, and abruptly ended when he and Bolin began to train at the pro bending center for several hours a day. Too exhausted to even dream, Bolin began to sleep through the night regularly and eventually shook the habit altogether.

Or at least Mako had thought. Terrified of what he might hear, Mako moved his hands to cover his ears, but was too late.

"The banapple bread is delicious, Mommy," mumbled Bolin, sounding content. "Yeah, I'll leave some for Mako; I promise."

Mako sighed in relief, and winced at the pain in his chest. The hole left in his heart had slowly healed over the years, but now it tore open a little at the memory of their countryside cottage, his mother's cooking, and the life they'd had before the Equalists came. Nevertheless he welcomed the memory and allowed it to fill him. He buried his head in the scarf around his neck, drinking in the scent as the recollection materialized.

_A six year-old Bolin, his face still covered in dirty soot, sat at the knarled oak table in the kitchen, stuffing his mouth full of banapple bread._

_His mother stood at the counter, washing and peeling carrots. Mako shuffled into the kitchen, having wiped his soot-covered feet on the mat by the door, and began to help his mother prepare the vegetables._

_She smiled as he joined her, grateful for the assistance. She handed him a peeler and gestured to the small mound of potatoes on the counter opposite the sink._

"_They've already been washed, Mako," she commented, as she turned her attention to Bolin._

_He beamed, his face covered in crumbs. "The banapple bread is delicious, Mommy," he said through a mouthful of the sweet pastry._

_She raised an eyebrow, shifting her gaze from Bolin's face to the quickly diminishing loaf. "Leave some for your brother, Bo," she warned, and went back to work, chuckling under her breath._

"_Yeah, I'll leave some for Mako; I promise," he replied, finishing the last crumb on his plate._

"_It's okay, Bo, you can have the rest," mumbled Mako from the corner of the kitchen. He was still working on peeling the first potato, and seemed preoccupied. "I'm not that hungry."_

_Bolin looked tempted, but resisted. "It's okay, big brother. You can have it later."_

_He wrapped up the remaining bread in a cloth and left it on the kitchen counter, leaving both his mother and brother surprised. Humming contently, he cleaned up the crumbs from the floor and trudged outside. He stopped by the hogmonkey pens, threw the crumbs in, and headed for the knoll._

"_You seem a bit down, Mako," his mother said, after he was sure Bolin had fallen out of earshot. "What's bothering you?"_

"_Nothing."_

"_Come, now; you and I both know that's not true." She walked over to him, finished with the carrots, and began to help him peel potatoes._

_Mako sighed. "I… just feel really bad about the burns I made in the grass," he confessed. "I know how much the earth means to you, and I didn't mean to hurt the plants, but I couldn't control my bending, and… please don't be mad at me." His eyes watered and he hiccupped, trying to stop himself from crying._

"_Oh, Mako, I'm not mad at all," she assured, pulling her son into a hug. "More than anything I want you to learn for yourself how the elements create peace and balance: how each element must learn to respect the others and work in harmony with them."_

_She reached into her shirt, drawing from it a well-worn pai sho tile strung on a cord about her neck. Using his index finger, Mako traced the grooves that formed each petal of the white lotus engraved on it. _

"_A very wise tea shop owner once told me developed his best firebending techniques by observing the water benders of the Southern tribes," she recollected as she lifted Mako into her lap. "He said that by recognizing the differences between the four elements, while realizing that they also come together as one to form and shape our world, he was able to bend fire as if it were water."_

_Mako's eyes widened in surprise and delight, for he had always loved the tales of the funny teashop owner his mother claimed to have received the tile from. Shifu Iroh's adventures had been a major part of Mako's and Bolin's bedtime routine since they were both in diapers._

"_You may be a fire bender, Mako, but that does not mean that anything an earth, water, or air bender may learn is irrelevant to you." She tousled his hair and kissed his forehead. "You are, after all, as much like your mother as you are like your father."_

_Mako beamed and hugged his mother around her neck. "Mommy, did Shifu Iroh ever study how to bend fire like an earthbender bends earth?" he asked eagerly, already running through his memory banks of his mother's earth bending and contemplating how he should incorporate her technique into his own moves._

"_Well, he did tell me about the time he spent in Ba Sing Se. The Fire Nation was pursuing him and his nephew, so they decided to live undercover. He then fulfilled his lifelong dream, opening a teashop called the Jasmine Dragon. While he was there, he picked up some earthbending techniques. He even showed me a few."_

"_Oh, can you show me? Pleeeeeease?" begged Mako, jumping up and down in anticipation._

"_Of course, dear. Come now; let's join your brother outside and I'll show both of you."_

"_But what about the potatoes?"_

_His mother shrugged, then hoisted her eldest son in her arms and carried him toward the door. "There will always be a time to peel potatoes, Mako. For now, let us enjoy some time together as a family, doing something special."_

_As she put him down at the door, Mako embraced his mother's waist, holding her tight. _

"_I love you, Mom."_

"_I love you too, Mako." _


	7. Plans

**VII.**

Mako awoke to an unpleasant cracking sound.

He dislodged the scarf from around his face and ears, repositioning it around his neck so that it resumed its normal placement. Rubbing his eyes in confusion, he whipped his head around to see Bolin focusing intently on the metal bars of their cell.

His bruises had darkened overnight, but most of his cuts and scrapes had scabbed over and were beginning to heal. He had removed the bandage from his face, and was now stretching his jaw and taking note of the way it reacted to his facial injuries. He clenched and released his fists, twisted his back, and rolled his head in circles, working out all of the morning kinks. Mako winced as Bolin cracked his knuckles loudly.

"What the hell are you doing, stretching this early?" he remarked, just as Bolin was moving on to crack his toes. "We're not going anywhere, unless you magically learned how to metalbend overnight."

Focused and unblinking, Bolin replied in monotone. "How would you know how early or late it is, Mako? Last time I checked, you didn't have a watch on your person, and we can't look outside to determine what time of day it is."

Mako scoffed as he roughly styled his hair with his hands. "Fine, I don't know the time of day, but the least you can do is satisfy my curiosity. Why do you look like you're preparing for a pro bending match?"

"Well, I've pretty much come to the conclusion that, since Korra hasn't rescued us yet, she's likely in some sort of trouble herself." Bolin retied the bandage around his face, wincing in pain as pressure was applied to his broken nose. "If my suspicions are correct, we'll need to bust ourselves out of here, grab Asami, and go look for Korra."

"And how on Earth are you going to do that, Bolin? You're obviously in pain, we don't know where they're holding Asami, and we're in the middle of _police freaking headquarters_. Hell, how do you think we're even gonna get out of this cell? And how do you know if Korra is even in trouble, huh? Like you said, there is no way we can possibly know whether or not she's in danger."

Bolin turned to his brother, glaring menacingly. "Don't you patronize me, Mako," he growled, his voice sharp with sincerity.

He lowered his voice to a whisper, but maintained the sting. "For your information, Asami is in the women's compound, which is out the corridor door and across the hall. She is in the second cell to the left as you enter. You would know this if you weren't just sitting on your ass all day and moping about how hopeless our situation is, and actually listened to the guards' conversations."

"Oh, and I suppose the guards happened to discuss how to get out of this hellhole, too, right?"

"Two lefts and a right to the automobile docking station, from where we could have open access to the city. Earthbending radar comes in handy sometimes. Oh, and before you ask, _smartass_, you should know by now that Korra is _always_ in danger, no matter where she is or who she's with. Amon will never stop hunting her, because she is the one person that is keeping everyone's hope for peace alive."

He blushed, realizing that he had just divulged the number one reason he admired Korra so much, but continued to verbalize what he had to say, but more softly than he had before.

"And, well…" he stumbled on his words, still embarrassed. "How can I think about pain when by best friend is out there all alone, probably in a position where Amon can find her and take her bending away?"

_How can I think about pain when the girl I love is out there all alone, probably in a position where Amon can find her and take her bending away?_

Bolin broke eye contact with his brother, and turned to face the wall again, hoping his brother hadn't noticed his reddened cheeks. Mako hung his head in understanding, his brow unfurling as his brother's tone had grown softer and more full of worry. Mako noted the redness of his brother's face, attributing it to swelling or that sudden burst of anger that was so uncommon for him.

"You consider her your best friend?"

"The best friend I ever had… besides you and Pabu, of course."

_The most amazing, beautiful, and talented girl I've ever met._

"Can I ask why?"

_Because she is smart, determined, and stubborn. Because she brought the Fire Ferrets back together. Because she's not afraid to slurp her noodles or belch loudly at a restaurant. Because she can kick ass in a fight. Because she stands up for herself and her friends. Because…_

"Because she believes in me."


	8. Journey

**VIII.**

That night Bolin dreamed again.

He found himself in a grass clearing bathed in moonlight. A soft wind blew through it, knocking hollowed reeds together and creating a meditative melody. He was lying on his back, spread-eagled, at the highest point of the clearing.

Sitting up on his rump, Bolin surveyed the scene, adjusting his eyes to the pale blue light. He reeled as his broken nose began to throb, not adjusting well to the place fact that his head was no longer at level with the rest of his body, but continued to scan the surrounding area.

Beyond the clearing he saw trees, which seemed to continue for an eternity into the sky. They perfectly framed the full, bone-white, and unusually large moon that adorned the night sky. It glowed starkly, outshining all of the stars.

And then, a young female voice that seemed to come from every fiber of the sky, making every leaf and blade of grass in the forest quiver.

_Greetings, earthbender._

Startled, Bolin swiveled his head around, searching for the source of the voice. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he returned to his normal field of vision and saw a girl about his age, dressed in a traditional Water Tribe gown, floating ten inches off the ground. Her hair and robes billowed as if she were underwater, and she radiated a light the same color and intensity of the moon's.

Bolin gasped at the ethereal sight and, unable to control himself, he spoke exactly what came to his mind.

"Whoa. You're really pretty."

He covered his mouth in embarrassment, while the girl giggled. Her laughter was like tinkling bells, and moved the leaves of the forest in such a way that the dew collected on them was shaken loose and fell to the forest floor, drenching Bolin.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" Bolin whined, attempting futilely to shake himself dry. "Who are you? Where are we? Do you have anything to eat?"

His antics only inspired more laughter. Once she had composed herself again, she replied: "My name is Yue, and I am the spirit of the moon. You are currently in the Spirit World… or, at least an 'offshoot' of it. Call it a suburb. In case you were wondering, you were brought here because a strong wave of emotions plunged you into a deep meditative state. You are just about comatose in your world right now, and here… well, you can communicate with some of the nature spirits, like me. In this part of the Spirit World, everything you think we can hear as clearly as if you were speaking it. But other than that and the tree population, it's quite akin to the world you're familiar with."

Bolin raised an eyebrow, surprised at the colloquial nature of her speech. Again, he found himself speaking his mind without inhibition.

"But… you look like you're just a kid! How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen? And if you're a spirit of antiquity and the past,"—he indicated the term 'spirit of antiquity' by waving his arms in a ghostly manner—"then how do you know what a suburb is?"

He covered his mouth before he could speak out of term again, and feared the worse from the spiritual entity.

Instead he heard her sigh.

It was as if the entire forest had sighed with her. The grass flattened, and a great gust of wind whipped Bolin's hair back until it resembled a form-holding brown cone attached to his head. Yue's feet soundlessly touched the grassy surface of the clearing, and the billowing of her hair and coat ceased as she began to dim dramatically. To Bolin, she looked like an ordinary girl in traditional garb.

"I _was_ a kid, just like you, not too long ago."

She half-walked, half-glided toward him, causing him to blush further. He couldn't let her see him injured, with his face so distorted by the violent guard's handiwork.

"When the Fire Nation attacked my homeland in the North, they took away the moon. Because the healing power of the moon allowed me to survive when I was an ailing child, I felt it was my duty to return the favor, and become the moon in her stead."

Bolin stared at her blankly, covering his nose with his left hand. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that again?"

"Did your mom and dad ever tell you about Avatar Aang and his battle with the Fire Nation ships in the North?"

A pause, then something clicked. "Oh yeah! I remember now!" he exclaimed. "You guys totally kicked Fire Nation butt, with the giant Avatar State salamander-thingie! I remember when Mom—"

Now it was Bolin's turn to be downcast. The memory of his mother telling the story hurt, more than a broken nose and some bruises ever could.

"What's the matter, earthbender? Why are you covering your face?"

"Please, Great Spirit, call me Bolin," he replied, trying his best to mask his emotions and his facial injuries. "My parents—"

Suddenly, he felt something inhumanly soft on his protectively raised left hand, and instinctively lowered it. The words stopped in his throat as Yue inspected his wounds, a look of great concern spreading across her face. Bolin retreated in humiliation, his cheeks redder than ever. "I-It's nothing, really, just a couple of scratches…"

"A couple of scratches? That's tiger-bullshit, and you know it! Your nose is broken in two places, you have a severe concussion and massive swelling, and a cracked orbital on your left side! What on _Earth_ did you do to get yourself into this mess?"

Bolin didn't even try to restrain himself this time. "I fell in love."


	9. Gift

**IX.**

The words tumbled out of him, flowing freely and with a wild fervor. It was unimaginably cathartic to finally confess what had occupied his mind; what had motivated every action, for the past few weeks. He smiled, forgetting the shame, the pain of his wounds and the persistent ache of his parents' deaths.

"The minute I met her I knew she was special. Every moment I spend with her, I am reminded of how unique, talented, and strong she really is, and when I think I can't possibly love her more, I find some more space in my heart and fill it with her!"

He picked up Yue by the waist and swung her around in circles, lost in the ecstasy of his feelings. There were joyful tears in his eyes and an eternally bright smile on his face, and he laughed at the ease by which he could make the tangible spirit airborne.

Startled, Yue gasped as a flood of memories filled her: after almost eighty years as a spirit, she had forgotten the incredible warmth of life and how it increased a hundredfold when unconditional love came to exist in it. Almost immediately, she realized how Bolin had transcended into her domain of the Spirit World.

Bolin caught himself again, and made haste and care in putting Yue back on the ground. The redness of his face had not subsided one bit when he finally managed to obtain eye contact with her.

"I'm so sorry, Yue. I am not treating you with the respect you deserve. I'm not quite used to this whole 'speaking my mind' thing, but it is no excuse for my behavior." He lowered his head in a formal bow. "Please forgive me."

Yue grasped his shoulders, forcing his head upright. "You need not apologize for anything, Bolin. It's actually nice to be treated like a normal girl again, and to meet someone that isn't so… well, _boring_."

Now it was Bolin's turn to laugh, but this time in relief and surprise. "You? Enjoy _my_ company? Yue, you don't know how long I've been waiting for a girl to tell me that!"

He shuffled his feet, looking sheepish. "Do I have permission to hug you?" he asked meekly.

She smiled warmly, opening her arms to accept his embrace. "I thought you'd never ask."

He pulled her into a firm, brotherly hug. To his delight, she hugged back just as tightly.

"Whoever she is, Bolin, she's sure lucky to have you."

His grip slackened and his heart leapt up into his throat, but Bolin managed to choke out a few words as he broke the embrace.

"Y-you really think so? Because lately, I feel like I've been more of a bother to her, getting captured by the Equalists and all, and the issue I had with my brother—"

Yue put her finger to her lips. Bolin mumbled into silence, his eyes downcast and his mind struggling to stay positive.

She seemed to consider his mood, and regarded him solemnly and apologetically. "You don't need to explain, Bolin: the spiritual properties of this place told me everything I needed to know. I don't want to burden you by having you explain the situation without necessity: I can see that what you've been experiencing these past few weeks are causing you a lot of grief." She shrugged. "If it's any consolation, I believe that Avatar Korra is extremely foolish for taking you for granted."

Bolin nodded, admittedly relieved for her understanding and that he didn't have to recount the fact that his feelings for Korra weren't exactly mutual.

"It's all right, Yue," he replied, trying his best to shrug off the issue. "I'm just glad that I can finally confide in someone about it. Just having someone to listen to your problems and say 'Yes, I understand' makes a lot more of a difference than you would think. Thank you for being that person."

"Well, I'm glad that I have been of some help to you, Bolin."

She smiled sweetly, equally grateful for the rare human company in the Spirit World.

Both Bolin and Yue felt a tug at their consciousness. Bolin _oomphed_ quietly, startled by the strange sensation, while Yue cursed under her breath.

"I'm sorry, Bolin, but dawn approaches quickly." She moved her hands to Bolin's face. He did not recoil. "I can't stay much longer, but before I go…"

As she levitated off the ground and resumed her ethereal form, she gently kissed Bolin's bruised forehead.

"Thank _you_, Bolin, for everything."

She slowly ascended as daybreak came, washing out the stars and obscuring the moon in the morning light. Another massive gust of wind blew across the grass, creating the illusion of a leaf-green ocean that lapped at Bolin's ankles.

The tugging became stronger, and Bolin felt himself stagger backwards into the trees surrounding the clearing, and then he was falling, falling, falling…

… and came to on the floor of the cell, exhaling forcefully as if he had held his breath the entire night.

He abruptly sat up, only to regret the action as he remembered his injuries a split second later. He clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes shut, and braced himself for the inevitable pain, the dull throb of his broken nose, his recently healed scratches reopening…

But it never came.

Bolin hesitantly relaxed, opening his eyes to search for a reflective surface to confirm his suspicion.

He stumbled to the bucket of still drinking water at the foot of the cell's entrance and peered inside.

He swore loudly in shock, knocking the bucket over with a loud clatter.

All evidence of the injuries he had sustained two nights before had disappeared.


	10. Stalling

**X.**

Startled by the noise, Mako shot out of bed, assuming a defensive position and half-yelling jibberish.

"ASKADAFSDJBAVDAJFBGFGKICHSABL?"

He whipped his head around frantically, searching for the source of the sound. Mako noticeably relaxed when he realized that it had only been Bolin, and sat back down on the cot, kneading his temples as if to calm a headache.

Bolin gingerly overturned the bucket, making as little noise as possible. He sat on the makeshift stool, facing his brother, and rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully.

"Ehe… sorry, bro. I woke up with a full bladder and tried to stumble to the toilet before I had gathered my bearings, and—"

"It's fine, Bolin, just… please give me a minute to wake up, all right?"

_Fine with me, just so long as I have more time to think of an explanation as to why I went to bed with a bloody mess of a face and woke up completely healed._

As Bolin considered his story, he took note of Mako's condition. There were some seriously packed bags under his eyes, and he was so pale that he competed with Naga. His hair looked like it hadn't seen a comb in weeks, and the shirt he had always managed to keep clean and pressed hung like a crumpled bag on his chest. He had obviously been up all night, worrying or contemplating or whatever Mako did when he couldn't sleep.

Bolin decided against prying into his brother's condition, hoping that his feigned lack of interest would be reciprocated. For added measure, he yawned deeply and stretched his well-rested limbs, as if he hadn't noticed Mako's fatigue at all.

Through sleepy eyes, Mako regarded his brother half-heartedly, cocking his head in confusion. "Man, I thought you said the guard gave you a broken nose. You look fine to me. How did you—"

_The Moon Spirit and I played doctor._

"Eh, I probably didn't break it after all," he shrugged, hoping the excuse would be sufficient to curb Mako's suspicion.

"No, I definitely heard it break after we were arrested, and you bled like a mother," he argued, becoming more curious by the minute. "Plus, your face was swollen to twice that size before bed last night. Nobody heals that fast, unless…"

_Shit, he's onto me. Find a distraction, find a distraction…_

"Um, Mako? I'm really sorry to interrupt, but can I… you know, finish my business?" asked Bolin, pointing to the cell's latrine. "It's urgent."

Mako sighed, turning his back to Bolin as to give him some privacy.

"Fine, but you have some serious explaining to do when you're done."

[END PART 1]


End file.
